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The hands of time have strangled my dreams of caressing your porcelain arms, stroking your ocean of hair, basking in the bright horizons of your eyes, cupping your heart with hands only wishing to discover. If only I could break free from this headlock of waiting, I could tell ...

This desert of a classroom, the wasteland of spite, drags time like an anchor into my mind, its aura of boredom swallowing my senses. Like into an abyss of shame, I fall hastily. And quietly do the walls harmonize in song, only to my ear, lyrics of perjury, deceit and crime, ...

Sadness and I walked into a bar last night,
Misery was serving cocktails.
“On the house,” she told us.
Sadness and I had one hell of a day,
so we decided to drink from Misery.
If I hadn’t gotten so drunk with Sadness,
I wouldn’t have had to call Sorrow
for ...

Remember back when we were kids,
when we would build forts and miniature
sanctuaries
from the pillows, blankets, and chairs
lying around the house,
sneaking past our parent’s peripherals,
indulging in pure imagination and freedom?
Remember back when we would hide out in our rooms
for hours...

My heart is for sale
at your auction,
my mind already sold,
and my body awaiting
a price tag.
Parts of me
sit in different spots,
lost and aimless
in your pile of used junk;
the aftertaste you try to expel
from your conscience.
I've sat long enough,
its time to stand up
against h...

How is it that you
with just a cold gaze can rust
my inner clockwork?
How is it that you
with just a pair of chilling
eyes can shake my world?
How come each time you
look at me I quake in fear,
becoming your prey?...

Their colorful wings flap with
the wind
in tune with nature,
their subtle movements attract
me towards them;
engulfed in the serene music.
So vibrant, so small
they fly across my garden,
soaring freely through the open air.
Their careful designs sparkle
with the sun;
harmonize, and shimme...

Raging ocean currents
of her beautiful, daunting, and admirably consistent imagery
continue to ferociously seep through the vulnerable rifts
of my inner being and subconscious
to form deep, striated marks
of unfulfilled and glorious intentions for us
meant to fill the dark, lifeless, and empt...

I walk into the park and sit on a bench. I am now retired and have nothing to do but die. I feel the wind and smell the air and I start to open my book. I am intrigued and the book is fascinating, I want to read more. My mind is active and the pages keep flipping until I reach the end. The book is f...